


Antebellum

by orphan_account



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Not for the first time in his life, and most certainly not for the last, Cutler Beckett cursed Jack Sparrow to the very deepest circle of hell"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antebellum

**Author's Note:**

> This is set pre-Curse of the Black Pearl. I'm only going on what little background information I have on them, but I know they used to work together. In this scenario, Jack is not yet a pirate and he is doing what he can to procure a ship from Lord Beckett. 
> 
> Also, if you feel like you've read this before, you might have. I wrote this a couple years ago and put it on Fanfiction, but recently I went back to it, spruced it up and I'm putting the new improved version up here.

Lord Cutler Beckett had not always been a god-fearing man of the crown. Far from it, in fact. There was once a time where his only devotions to the Almighty had come as feverish screams during climax, and the only monarchy he served were that of hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds.

But who better to oversee the purging and conquering of a sinful world than one who had sinned so appallingly? No man is completely without sin, after all.

 

But his reasons for doing what he did ran a little deeper than just fear for his (probably doomed) soul and the promise of limitless prestige…

 

...................................................

 

"Jack!"

"That's Captain to you."

"Captain, I-"

"Shh…"

The scent of sweat and rum clung to the insides of Cutler's nostrils as his face was pressed deeper into the filthy bedding. Focusing half of his attention on breathing regularly, and the other half on the hot, dark form pressing him into the bed in some sleazy inn in some depraved port in an obscure part of the world, Cutler turned his head to the side and sucked in the stale air, letting it out with a hissing curse of pleasure. There was a tutting sound from the body above him.

“I’m sure there's no need for language like that." A calloused hand skimmed over his throbbing erection, and Cutler gasped. "If there is something you require, just …ask… nicely…"

Cutler gripped the pillow with both hands, rubbing himself shamelessly into Jack’s feather-light touch.  
"Ah! Please, C-Captain," He wailed, the touch setting his head spinning and the stillness almost killing him. 

The other man's breath whispered past his ear, felted dreadlocks hanging alongside his own sweaty tresses. "Yes?" murmured the brigand, "how may I be of service?" Cutler could hear the smugness in his voice.

"Harder! By all that is holy, harder!" He screamed, unable to take the unresponsive hold any longer.

Jack chuckled softly, rocking back on his knees to survey the naked, trembling young man prone before him in the murky half-light.  
Cutler moaned and jerked upwards at the sudden loss of warmth, but Jack's strong hands kept him pressed down in a most undignified position.   
Not that it mattered, of course. Dignity had been thrown out of the window along with his undergarments hours ago. 

Jack ran a hand lazily along Cutler's back, as if he had all the time in the world to get where he was going. Cutler let out a quiet sob of frustration.  
Jack sat perfectly still for a moment, his fingers tugging absently at Cutler’s hair. Then, with a growl, he dived forward and seized Cutler's hips before plunging himself to the hilt inside the smaller man. 

The tiny keening sounds Cutler had been making turned instantly to cries and curses as Jack thrust into him roughly again and again, driving his face further into the flea infested sheets. A strong hand clasped his erection and stroked.

Cutler had five heavenly seconds to enjoy this much needed attention before Jack seized a handful of his hair and hauled him upright. Kneeling in that position, Jack hit a sweet spot inside him that sent Cutler's eyes rolling into his skull, and he made a guttural noise deep in his throat as Jack's teeth sank into his neck. He was so close it was beginning to ache, and the stifling heat was making him dizzy. The pleasure was so intense that he barely heard Jack's hoarse whisper.

"Say it again…"

Cutler gulped in a breath and poured all his concentration into producing a coherent sound “The…The Black Pearl is yours, Jack…Ahh! Y-you will be Captain!" 

And then, tossing his head back and shrieking a multitude of curses he didn't realize he knew, he came. His fists snapped closed around handfuls of bed sheet and he screamed his pleasure for all in the vicinity to hear.

And after a couple more thrusts and throaty grunts, Jack followed suit. 

The full weight of his body dropped, spent, onto Cutler's back and his face was once again shoved into the stained linen.

They lay like that for a blissful few moments, panting. Cutler savored the feel of Jack's damp skin against his own, of his mouth pressed to his neck, storing every last heartbeat away in the securest corner of his memory, for he knew what was coming next. 

Once his breath had returned to him and his cock began to soften, Jack slipped out of Cutler and off the bed.  
Cutler lay on his front with his head resting on folded arms and silently watched him stumble around the room pulling on various items of clothing in the order he found them. 

Neither of them said a word till Jack was fully dressed and was dusting off his hat, which had fallen into the ashes at the edge of the hearth. Then he stumbled to the bedside table, swiped up a half empty bottle of rum, and clumsily patted Cutler on the head. “Pleasure doing business with you, mate." he slurred with a dismissive nod. Then he turned and strolled from the room, mumbling some drinking song under his breath.

A stagnant silence was all that was left. Cutler rolled onto his back and lay there waiting for his body to stop burning with lust and shame. He was ashamed of himself, for his sinful desires, for his detestable weakness, but most of all the abomination that was his insatiable, torturous longing for Captain Jack Sparrow. 

He wondered if, every time Jack stepped foot on his beloved ship, he would remember that he fucked Cutler Beckett to get it. He hoped he would. At least, he hoped that Jack thought about him at all when he wasn't in his company.  
In truth, he knew Jack had never come to his bed in order to procure that ship. He wouldn't have needed to. He knew that Jack knew Cutler would do anything he asked of him. That's why he came; to see the well-dressed little lord squirm and beg and suck his cock. 

“Just good business.” He whispered to the empty room.

Not for the first time in his life, and most certainly not for the last, Cutler Beckett cursed Jack Sparrow to the very deepest circle of hell.


End file.
